


Keep Good Company

by Queenie_Sorcha



Series: Good Company [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Blood and Injury, Brian centric, Brian needs to find goog coping mechanisms, Crying, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everything Hurts, Fluff and Angst, Freddie Roger and John are oblivious, Gaslighting, Gen, Hurt Brian May, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Lots of tears, Messing with the timeline for plot purposes, Mid 70s, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Protective Tim, References to Depression, Self-Harm, Sort Of, The Author Regrets Everything, Tim is a good friend, Timeline What Timeline, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, implied starvation, my tags are a mess i'm sorry, not that much fluff, poly!Queen, we respect Tim in this household
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 05:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18804277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_Sorcha/pseuds/Queenie_Sorcha
Summary: Brian was trying to move on and forget about his past, but his bandmates behaviour starts to trigger him, and it all comes crashing down when he is fully reminded of the situation he was trapped in.





	Keep Good Company

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, folks, this is Sorcha.  
> I know I should be writing the second part of the Dream Of Thee series but I saw these asks and needed to write because, as I said, I'm a slut for Hurt!Brian.  
> I shall upload the next part (DOT) this week, I'm halfway through it!  
> I'm back with yet another angst because that's my thing, apparently, and this time I went full dark mode and wrote this. I was inspired by two asks from the blog @bohemian-rhapsody-slash on tumblr:
> 
> 1) Brian and Roger arguing and it ending with Roger giving Brian a huge slap in front of the boys? How would all of the react? (https://bohemian-rhapsody-slash.tumblr.com/post/184813125225/brian-and-roger-arguing-and-it-ending-with-roger) 
> 
> 2) Brian's ex was abusive so he's sensitive to both raised voices and aggressive/sharp movements. When he gets together with Roger, he's aware that Rog has a temper but also knows that he'd never hurt Brian, that it's just the furniture that's in danger. But when Roger, who doesn't know about Bri's ex, loses his temper for the first time since they moved in together, over something completely trivial, it reminds Brian of his ex so much that he gets a panic attack almost immediately. (https://bohemian-rhapsody-slash.tumblr.com/post/184719499605/brians-ex-was-abusive-so-hes-sensitive-to-both)
> 
> I was intrigued by these and thought -- hey, I might write it later.  
> So, here I am. I just changed the relationships, I thought it would work with poly!Queen. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: This work has a huge huge huge trigger warnig for domestic violence and abusive relationship, as well as self-harm and rape, so please, don't read it if you feel triggered by these. This is just a piece of fiction, but the situations here are real and need to be taken seriously.
> 
> I apologise in advance.

Brian never thought he could love someone the way he loved his bandmates, at least not after what he went through the last time. They knew each other for only a few years, but Brian was completely sure he would want to spend the rest of his life with them — if not as lovers, then as friends, as family. John was a true sweetheart, although he could be mean sometimes, and it just made Brian’s heart swell with affection; Roger was full of life and energetic, he filled their bodies with his pretty smile and blue eyes, intoxicating them; Freddie was like the sea: he could be calm when you first met him, but when you got deeper and deeper you’d see that he was much more than that, he was fierce, he was passion; they were everything Brian needed, and he never complained when they were a bit too much and made him panic, he thought it was worth it, and as long as no one knew the truth, he would be able to be with them for how much time he wanted to.  

He tried his best to hide his scars and the marks on his body — they were his business and anyone would be scared of them, and that was the last thing Brian wanted. That’s why he was never shirtless, even when they went swimming, and why he wore makeup. He needed to pretend everything was okay because denial was better than facing reality. No, he couldn’t bear looking in the mirror and seeing the  _real_ him. The  _real_ Brian who had big scars on his back, on his hips, on his arms and on his legs. That Brian was  _disgusting_ and all he wanted was to get rid of him.  

No one would like him if they knew.  

No one would like him at all, so it was a miracle that the boys didn’t turned him down and left — Brian thought it was just a matter of time until they did.  

Ω 

The session on the studio was heated, they couldn’t agree on nothing that day. It all started that morning during breakfast, when they were discussing Roger’s car song, and John and Brian were a little confused by it — don’t get them wrong, it wasn’t a bad song and Roger’s voice would fit it greatly, but the lyrics were... eccentric, to say the least.  

John started to joke about it, and soon enough Roger started to get fed up with the mocking, but nothing too big. No need to panic. Then, Brian decided that three could play that game, because now John was smiling widely, showing his diastema, and Roger was starting to smirk — in that cheeky way that made Brian’s heart hurt with love — and he would start to snicker and mock John’s songs; that made him want to smile with them, to participate, and maybe it could show them that they could be in a relationship together.  

— Roger, do you know why you’re so defensive about this song? — Brian asked smugly. — Because you know it’s not that grand. — And boy, was that a mistake. Roger’s face darkened and he frowned, his blue eyes became intimidating and Brian felt small. He knew that look all too well and it made his heart beat fast. It was supposed to be a joke, why did he react that way? 

— Not that grand, huh? — Roger said and pouted. Then he turned to the stove and took a handful of bacon. He looked at Brian and threw them at him, making some pieces fall into Brian’s teacup. — What do you think, is this grand for you? — He said in an angry tone, although he tried to joke, but Brian wasn’t having none of it. 

Brian couldn’t make any sentences because his heart was racing, his hands became sweaty and he was sure his face was bright red. He felt his breath falter and things around him became a blur. He knew Roger didn’t want to hurt him, but that unleashed memories Brian rather forget forever. 

 

 

 

 

> _Brian was sitting on their couch, reading a magazine, trying to rest because college was killing him slowly and he could feel sadness crawling upon his skin. He just needed time to himself, to feel like a normal human being again. Everything was okay, the sounds of the nature outside — the birds and the wind — were calming him down and he was able to just chill. Brian could even sleep if he wanted to, because soon sleepiness was taking him. But nothing lasts._  
> 
> **He**   _arrived home, and Brian knew just from his footsteps that_ **he** _was angry. It was never good when_ **he** _was angry. The first time it gave Brian a mini anxiety attack, because_ **he** _kept screaming and screaming, the second time, it gave Brian a terrible night of sleep because he needed to sleep on the couch. Now, the third time, Brian was a little bit afraid of what would happen._  
> 
> _— Brian, I’m tired, bring me coffee. —_ **He** _commanded._ **He** _didn’t want to know if Brian was okay, how was his day. Nothing._  
> 
> _— Jake, babe, I’m really not in the mood to leave the couch. — Brian tried to reason with him, because honestly, he just needed to rest._  
> 
> _—_ Brian.  _— Jake’s voice was so firm that Brian got scared and started to shake. — I said I want coffee. Go get me coffee right now._  
> 
> _— Babe, please, I already told you, I— Brian tried to explain, because he was feeling terrible and he didn’t have the will to get up. He just wanted to be left alone, or if Jake was going to keep bothering him, he could at least comfort him. But talking stopped working_ _a while_ _ago._  
> 
> _— Are you really saying no to me because your lazy ass can’t get up? Are you using your mental health as an excuse_ again _? — Jake spoke with such angriness that Brian decided it was better to do as he was told, so he made his boyfriend coffee. He handed him the cup and sat on his spot again, trying to go back to reading. All it took was one sip and soon Brian had coffee all over him._  
> 
> _— Jake?! Why did you do this? — The hot liquid burned his fingers and stained his clothes, also ruining the magazine and the couch._ That  _was the third. He got up to clean himself but Jake pulled him by his wrist and made him fall back on the cushion._  
> 
> _— The next time you make me something, make it right, do you understand me? — His face was full of hate, and Brian just wanted to cry and run away, but the hands grabbing him were too strong and Jake scared the shit out of him. So, all he did was nod and look down. — Good. Now,_ _you_ _useless idiot, you will make me another cup and you_ will  _make it_ right,  _or else you’re_ _gonna_ _regret it. — Brian nodded again and stood on shaky legs, trying his best to maintain a blank face. He dismissed the burning feeling on his fingers and his chest. The only thing he needed to do was please Jake._  
> 
>  

— Rog, did you forget that Brian here is a vegetarian? — Freddie suddenly appeared on the kitchen and soon his hands were on Brian’s shoulders, gladly taking him out of his mind. He realised that he didn’t zone out for too long when no one asked why he didn’t answer. Roger just huffed and shrugged, as if his actions hadn’t made Brian feel scared. — Are you okay, Bri, dear?  

— Yeah, I’m fine. — He lied. He wasn’t fine. — I just need to go to the bathroom and clean myself. — Brian didn’t stutter, thank god, and he left the kitchen as soon as possible.  

Freddie called his name, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to forget. So, he went to the bathroom and sat of the floor trying to calm the fuck down. Brian cursed himself for wearing a short-sleeved shirt, because it would be harder to hide what he would do. He inhaled sharply and tried to give up, he really did, but the memories kept coming back and he just wanted to lock the pain away. So, he looked for a razor and took off his pants. He just needed one little cut and everything would go back to normal. It was always like that.  

Brian cut his thigh with shaky hands, nothing too deep, — which wouldn’t help that much, but was better than nothing — and waited for the blood to drip from the wound so he could be sure — he didn’t know  _why_ he needed to be sure, but he waited anyways. When a long line of blood was going down his thigh and almost reaching his knee, he felt satisfied and cleaned it with paper until it stopped bleeding — if Brian had managed to cut deeper or longer, he would bleed through his jeans — and got dressed, feeling that slight sting of pain that took his mind off  _him_.  

But it was never enough.  

Ω 

Later that day Brian was sitting on an armchair, strumming his twelve-string guitar, and trying not to be mad because the boys were recording without him. “ _We don’t need you for this song,_ _Bri_ _”,_ Freddie told him, and it made the paranoid part of his mind start to create theories of why wouldn’t they want his abilities. Was it because guitar was becoming old-fashioned? Or because they knew and didn’t like him anymore? Did they find out he was in love with the three of them and were disgusted by the thought?  

Maybe it was because Brian was too insufferable. A shiver ran down his spine and he shivered from head to toe when he felt the air around him growing colder and colder, and soon he shut down, not feeling his fingers anymore, but still conscious that he was playing.  

 

 

 

 

> _Brian was tired of being home alone. His depression had brought him down for too long, to the point he thought he was going to lay down on his bedroom until he disappeared; but, as if some deity had looked down on him, one day he woke up feeling better and thought that would be good to go out, maybe visit his parents or go to a pub with a few friends — he was feeling bad for having abandoned Tim, but fortunately his friend understood and supported him._  
> 
> _That’s why he dressed with his best clothes and fixed his hair for the first time in a_ long  _time. He left his bedroom and felt a wave of uneasiness rush through him, but he ignored the feeling and went to the phone to call Tim, not realising that Jake was in the living room watching him carefully._  
> 
> _—_ Hello? —  _Came the voice from the other side of the line, making Brian smile because it was great to listen to another human being._  
> 
> _— Hi, Tim, it’s Brian. I’m feeling better today and I wanted to know if you fancy going out today..._  
> 
> _—_ Yeah, of course, mate, I’d love to go out with you; it’s been ages since we last saw each other! —  _Brian felt_ happy _for being missed, and he wanted to see Tim so bad it hurt. —_ When do you want to meet? 
> 
> —  _Anytime past 6 p.m. it’s going to be great; I intend to visit my mom today and you know how she is. — Brian laughed along his friend, feeling light for the first time since the last_ incident.  
> 
> — The time’s perfect for me, just meet me at the pub near Imperial, okay? 
> 
> —  _Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Thank you for wanting to see me._  
> 
> _—_ Brimi, —  _Tim chuckled —_ you don’t have to thank me, I always want to see you; we’re friends since, well, forever. —  _Tim didn’t need to know that Brian almost cried because he felt loved, and all he could do was laugh back at his friend and say “I love you”. —_ Yeah, I love you too, mate. See you later and take care. 
> 
> —  _See you, Tim, and take care too. Bye. — He hung up and turned around smiling, but soon his face fell because Jake was there and Brian didn’t want to face a fourth time._  
> 
> _Brian returned to the bedroom and hoped Jake wouldn’t follow him — which was weird, because they were boyfriends and needed to love each other, not fear each other. He didn’t lock the door, no, he was clever than that, and just picked a book to read in case he wanted to talk — Brian would say he was busy and that would be it. Except Jake would never leave him at peace._ Never.  _And Brian felt sad again because Jake used to be so loving, why was he acting like a dick?_  
> 
> _A weight on the mattress made him look away from the pages and he saw his boyfriend_ smiling,  _and maybe Jake was happy because Brian finally left his room and would finally leave the house — which meant he wasn’t lost, he could still recover and his mental health would be okay again. Brian smiled too, because he missed affection and love. He was touch-starved._  
> 
> _Jake caressed Brian’s hair and he all but_ melted _at the touch. Brian purred and leaned closer to the other body, closing his eyes and smiling widely, showing his little fangs that Jake loved. He was going to rest his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, but Jake held his chin up and kissed him once. Twice. Thrice. Brian lost count of how many kisses he received while having his curls being given attention. He missed this, being intimate with his lover._  
> 
> _Brian was going to kiss him again, but Jake yanked his hair with force and looked at him with hatred eyes; the room got cold, and Brian was afraid. This couldn’t be the fourth time. Everything was going to be great; he was feeling okay._ Please _, it couldn’t be the fourth time._  
> 
> _— Jake, my hair..._ _it_ _hurts._  
> 
> _— Brian, are you really_ that  _dumb? — Jake tilted his head and pulled Brian with less force, but it still hurt. Brian was forced to put his head down to ease the pressure and save his hair. — Do you really think he wants to go out with you?_  
> 
> _— I...  I do... — he was feeling small, weak, ridiculous, and all he could do was cry. Jake laughed with mischief and caressed Brian’s cheek._  
> 
> _— If he cared about you, he’d have called eons ago, Brian. And your mother? — Jake snickered and patted Brian’s head as if he was a dog. — How can anyone love someone as disgusting as you? — Brian cried harder and sobbed loud. Jake couldn’t be serious, his family loved him, his mother would always love him and Tim was his best friend, it was_ impossible  _that they faked it for all these years._  
> 
> _— But you... — Brian wiped his tears slowly, but it didn’t help: he kept crying and crying until his eyes burned and the knot in his throat became painful._  
> 
> _— If I don’t love you, no one will, you’re lucky to have me, Brian. I’m the_ only one  _who truly loves you, because, well – if I stayed with you until now... — and the worst part is that it all made sense to Brian, he really believed no one loved him. Jake hugged him and stroked his back, and Brian was sure it was a gesture of love._  
> 
> _— Thank you for loving me... — he felt drained, the power that had returned left him and he just needed to sleep. The arms around him were welcomed, more because of fear of being alone than because of love, and he soon fell asleep._  
> 
> _Tim waited Brian for five hours, and he gave up waiting when he called Brian’s mother and she said he didn’t go visit her. Tim was worried, first because Brian never spent so much time being in a... bad mood, and second because it wasn’t like him to miss an appointment. He went home wondering what was happening and how he could help — but for now he would wait for Brian’s next call. That never happened._  
> 
>  

Brian felt the guitar being taken away from him and Roger sat on his lap. He could feel his surroundings again and the sting of pain returned when the extra weigh was put upon him, and he was glad for that — he  _didn’t want_ to remember. Roger looked him in the eyes and smiled, and Brian felt his heart beat fast because of that — he just wanted to kiss Roger senselessly and ravishingly. He smiled too, and Roger chuckled lightly before kissing him in the cheek and  _shit_ , Roger would never be like Jake.  

— I love your smile, Brian. You should smile more. — Roger rested his head on Brian’s right shoulder while caressing the other one, and Brian felt his heart flutter. — I want to apologise for this morning, I just wanted to wind you up, but I think it went too far.  

— That’s okay, Roggie, — Brian didn’t see, but Roger was smiling like an idiot — that’s okay. — He hugged his friend and closed his eyes, not being able to stop thinking that  _this_ is what love is supposed to be. That  _this_ is what he deserves.  

— I'm happy you don’t hate me. — Brian laughed because he could _never_  hate Roger. — But you might do now because I’ve also came to take you to work.  

— Well, I'm glad I’m going to be useful. — Roger understood the self-deprecation tone as a bad joke, and he would never think that Brian really thought he was expendable for them. — Let’s go.  

Ω 

Okay — maybe Brian was a fool for wanting to work that day. Things were going really bad. First because he was distraught and reminiscing, and because of that he kept missing his cue and playing the wrong chords. Because of that, Freddie got annoyed, John started to give his mean remarks and Roger was furious. The bickering started to make Brian anxious, because it became just like that when it got worse. He couldn’t bear it anymore, and all he wanted was to go back to the bathroom to cut himself until oblivion.  

After the fifth time Brian messed up the chorus, Roger left the recording room and went for a smoke, he was soon followed by John; Freddie was the only one left to deal with Brian, and maybe he was feeling bad for putting his bandmates in that situation — what use had a guitarist that couldn’t play? Brian lowered his head and tried to contain his tears, the last thing he needed was make a fool of himself in front of Freddie. He put his guitar away and tried to focus. 

— Bri, dear, are you sure you’re okay? — Freddie held his hand and caressed his fingers before lacing them together. — Are you ill, darling? 

— I don’t think so, Fred. — He rubbed his eyes ang got away from Freddie, which only worried the frontman more. — This part is just... I don’t know, maybe I need a break. —  _Maybe I need to cut._ That’s what he thought. He felt heavy, useless, and  _that_ words kept coming back. He could handle it before, why was it different now?  

— Darling, you should tell us when you’re feeling bad. — Freddie pulled him into a hug, making him feel both relieved and scared. “ _No, stop thinking about him!”,_ his mind kept telling him, but it was hard. — You’re a great guitarist, there’s no need to push your limits.  

— You’re being too nice, Fred. — Brian shook his head and put his arms around Freddie when fear became unbearable. — You’re all doing your best, I should do my part.  

— Bri, you’re shaking. — Freddie pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, and what Brian saw that was too much. He already knew Freddie was like the ocean, but now? Brian saw so much love that he felt  _good,_ and he wanted to drown in that deep eyes; one of Freddie’s hand started to caress his cheek and Brian thought that that was the time to do something, so he leaned closer to kiss him. And he beamed with excitement when Freddie started to lean too and had his eyes half closed. Their lips were almost touching when John and Roger entered in the room. Brian pulled away quickly and didn’t see Freddie’s deceived expression. — Let’s go back to the song, I suppose. — He said grumpily.  

Brian got down to get his guitar and when he turned around, he saw that John was ogling his butt. The attention would be okay if Brian weren’t already scared, and the look he had in his eyes were enough to send him back to one of the worst nights of his life. 

 

 

 

 

> _Brian was alone, — except for Jake — and didn’t have the will to leave his house even to go to college, and he was sure that he had failed all his classes, so what was even the point i_ _n going? He hadn’t spoken to anyone for two months, not even his parents, and the only contact he had with the outside world came from the view of his window. He only left his bedroom to eat, to go to the bathroom and to clean himself — and it was enough, because it took too much effort._  
> 
> _That day Jake went to work, and he spent most of the day laying on their bed. When his boyfriend got home, Brian had only left two times — the first one to eat an apple and the second one to take a long and hot bath. He wasn’t feeling any better and he missed his friends and family — too bad they didn’t love him, right?_  
>  _Jake entered the room and smiled at the scene in front of him, but that smile was wicked and Brian felt scared. Terrified. Soon enough rough hands were touching him and wet kisses were placed on his neck. It felt wrong._  
> 
> _— Jake, stop. I don’t want it. — Brian could feel his boyfriend’s boner on his thigh, and he gathered all his strength to push him away. — Jake, stop!_  
> 
> _— Are you sure? You want this too, Brian. — He took off Brian’s trousers and parted his legs, Brian was too weak to fight back. The tone on_ _Jake’s_ _voice really made Brian doubt himself, but the hands on his hips brought him back._  
> 
> _— Jake, no! Stop it. I don’t want it! — Brian screamed, but his lips soon were locked with Jake’s and he couldn’t talk at all. He tried to push him again, but he used one hand to pine down his wrists and the other took off his underwear._  
> 
> _— Brian, I’m doing this for both of us. You need this. We need this. — Brian started to cry, thinking that it would be better if he just took it._  
> 
>  
> 
> _When he finished, Brian couldn’t move because everything hurt, and he was sure he was going to be sore for a week. Jake, on the other hand, just left him in the bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. When he finished, he looked at Brian with indifference, grabbed a duvet and a pillow and went to sleep on the couch._  
>  _Brian cried harder and felt abused for the first time, but then he remembered that Jake was doing it for both of them — if he said that it was good, then Brian was probably overreacting._  
> 
> _No matter how much he tried to find an excuse, he was scared, hurt, bruised and he just wanted to run away from Jake forever. “_ But how can I when he is the only one that loves me?”,  _Brian thought. He cried himself to sleep, and when he woke up, he noticed that it wasn’t only cum that stained the sheets, but also blood, and something inside him broke. He cried again and wished someone could save him._  
> 
>  

Brian got so caught up on his mind that he didn’t notice the worried and angry glances aimed at him. John was panicking because he thought that Brian knew and was disgusted by the idea of a relationship, he didn’t mean to scare Brian away — he, Roger and Freddie had already talked and decided that they would all get together when it was the right time; Freddie was worried because Brian was pale and shaking more than before, and honestly, he looked really ill; Roger was angry because he fucking saw Freddie making a move on Brian and that was the only reason that could have made the guitarist stay still, without even talking or answering when they called his name.  

Brian was just trying to move on, but he couldn’t do it unless he had a razor with him. It was hard, and the flashes of that night came rushing back and he didn’t want to remember. Brian just wanted to feel excited with John ogling him, with Freddie having almost kissed him and with Roger being a sweetheart with him. Brian just wanted to feel the love and desire his bandmates had for him, but Jake kept returning to his mind every now and then, more often than not; yes, some days he could dismiss the memories, but on other days — like this one — Brian just spent all day laying on the floor of his bedroom while cutting himself open and watching the blood drip from his arms and legs. Suddenly, the other three began to scream, and Brian started to lose it.  

— This is all your fault, Freddie! — Roger threw his drumstick on the nearest wall and kicked the stool. — You should’ve waited! — Freddie laughed a bitter laugh and glanced at Roger with wrath all over his face. 

— You’re the one who’s fucking disrespectful.  

— It’s my fault, guys, I shouldn’t have— John started but Freddie and Roger interrupted him. 

— Shut up, John! — They said in unison, going back to scream at each other. No one noticed that Brian was trying to curl up around himself while trying to breathe properly.  

— Oh, no, now fuck you two! — John screamed back and Brian covered his ears. — You were the ones that started this shit.  

   

 

 

 

> _Brian was trying to go out. It had been a week since_ that  _night. It took him a day to get up and take a shower, and he spent seven days and seven nights crying himself to sleep. He was glad Jake was hardly sleeping on their bedroom, because Brian was_ _afraid_ _he would do that again. Brian wouldn’t be able to handle it._    
>  _Brian was feeling terrible, of course, but if he could talk to his parents — even if they didn’t care — he would be safe, he had a place to go. His hand  had just touched the doorknob when he was thrown on the floor._  
> 
> _— What do you think you’re doing? — Brian got up and started to get away from Jake. His legs were almost giving up._  
> 
> _— I-I want to... I-I n-n-need-d t-t-to go... g-go o-out. — He started to cry and Jake just laughed._  
> 
> _— You don’t leave this house unless I tell you so, do you understand me? — Jake pulled him by his arm and led him to their bedroom, throwing Brian on the mattress. Brian’s arm started to bruise. — You’re a useless excuse of human being, and you should be glad I’m still around. — He screamed really loud and Brian wondered if his neighbours would hear._  
> 
> _— I-I-I k-k-k-know... I-I j-j-just-t want-t-ed t-t-to— Brian was panicking for real: his heart was beating fast; he couldn’t breathe and his hands were sweaty. He just wanted to go away. He wanted the comfort of his mother’s arms, the certainty of his father’s voice and the warmth of Tim’s laughter. Brian wanted his life back, and he regretted having moved in with Jake._  
> 
> _—_ I  _know what you want and_ I  _know when you want it. So, you stay here and just leave when I tell you to! — Jake screamed again and hit the wardrobe with a punch. Brian jumped and cried harder, hiding his face on the pillows. —_ This  _is your place, don’t push your boundaries or I’ll leave you. — Something inside Brian got alarmed. He wanted to leave Jake, but the thought of being alone in the world scared the shit out of him, and how would he find anyone to love him? Jake was right – no one would love Brian._  
> 
> _— No! Don't... d-d-don't-t... l-l-_ _leav_ _-v-_ _ve_ _me-e..._  
> 
> _— Be a good boy and I won’t. — Jake caressed his ass and left the bedroom, locking the door. Brian tried to go after him and make sure he wasn’t going to leave, but he couldn’t open the door._  
> 
> _He started to panic even more and tried to force the lock for twenty minutes, screaming all the time and sometimes hitting the wood. His hand was throbbing and wounded, and he fell on the floor crying, heaving, feeling sick and terrified, and he couldn’t breathe. He tried to scream for_ anyone _, but help never came and he felt alone. He moved closer to the bed but couldn’t stand up. Brian ended up falling asleep on the hard, cold ground; and when he woke up, Jake was there with that smile._  
> 
>  

The bickering never stopped and now the other three were at each other’s throats, almost punching themselves. Brian wanted it to stop, because now it was unbearable; he put his guitar aside and went in their direction. Their faces were flushed, sweat dripping from their bodies, and they were screaming  _a lot_. Brian hated times like this, and usually he would wait for John to stop it all, but today was not his day.  

— Guys, stop, please... — his voice was so weak that they probably didn’t listen to him, so he touched Roger’s arm — I promise I’ll be a _good_ _boy,_ just stop, _please_.  

John heard him and got confused when Brian said he was going to be a “good boy”, so he stopped and looked at Brian. It was just the right time to see the scene that would change it all. Roger’s eyes beamed with rage, his right arm half way to Freddie’s face turned around and went straight to Brian’s face. He slapped Brian with all the strength he had. The sound of skin against skin was enough to stop the fight, and everyone fell silent. 

Roger was shocked he did that. It wasn’t his intention, far from that, — Brian didn’t do anything wrong — but it was too late. John gasped loud and looked at Roger with fury, and Freddie was pale, looking at the red-hand-shaped mark on Brian’s left cheek.  _Fuck._  No one had time to say anything before Brian started to cry frantically. 

 

 

 

 

> _It had become a routine: Brian was manhandled all the time, screamed at and abused. And he thought he deserved because Jake always blamed him and made him feel guilty. Brian took it all. Brian believed. This time was the worst, and Brian never thought Jake could be meaner than he already was_ _._  
> 
> _Brian was hiding reading, — he was forbidden of doing_ anything _that Jake thought was rebellious — but he was found out. Jake had been searching for him and to say he was angry when he saw Brian_ reading  _was an understatement. He threw the book away and dragged Brian by his hair, ignoring the screams of pain. He went to the bathroom and lifted Brian up so he was looking at his reflection. Then, he punched him. Hard._  
> 
> _Jake did it again. And again. And again. Until Brian’s eyes were black, his eyebrows were open and bleeding, blood covering his eyelashes; his nose was swollen, also bleeding, and he couldn’t breathe without choking on his own blood; his lips were hit too, and now had a big wound from where more blood was dripping. His tears were red, and he just wanted to die._  
> 
> _Jake didn’t stop until Brian’s face were bloated and he was almost unconscious. Then, he sat Brian on the toilet seat and yanked his head up by his hair, making him look at his reflection again. Brian could barely see, and what he did was painted red. His head was throbbing and the pain was making him dizzy._  
> 
> _— That’s what you get for disobeying me. You know,_ love,  _I only want what’s best for you, so do as I say. — Brian nodded and fainted. His face now bruised and scarred as the rest of his body._  
> 
>  

— Brian, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t—  

—  _Get away from me! —_ Brian pulled his hair and walked away from his “friends”. He leaned on the wall and dropped to his knees, trying to forget, but now it was impossible. All the chances of finding love again were lost, because the only men he trusted were  _just the same_. They would hurt him the same way and make him suffer once more. He yelled in pain.  

— Brian, love, are y— Freddie tried. In vain, 

—  _Please, stop! I don’t want it!_ — He kept thinking that this was Jake, and he didn’t want it. —  _Get away from me! You’re a monster! You only want to hurt me! —_ John got anxious because Brian was panicking, and Roger wanted to cry because he did that to the man he loved. Freddie wanted to hug Brian, but when he took a step ahead Brian screamed again. — _Get away from me! I hate you! You don’t love me! —_ Brian got up and ran to his bedroom. He needed to flee.  

Freddie turned to Roger, and if looks could kill the drummer would be six feet under. Roger scratched his head and cursed at the wind. He had fucked up really bad, and now Brian would be heartbroken forever. They lost Brian. John got angry, because the fear on Brian’s face wasn’t supposed to be there and, god forbid, the only reason to explain his reaction was if he was beaten before — and that broke John’s heart. Freddie took a deep breath, but it didn’t calm him down, and then the storm began. 

— Why did you have to fuck up? — Freddie rubbed his face to stop himself from pushing Roger. — Do you know how wrong it was?  

— I know, okay?! I shouldn’t have hit him! — Roger was fully crying now. — I don’t know what happened, but I just... I wasn’t going to...  

— Well, that’s a good way to start a relationship. — John spoke scornfully. — Did you see the look on his face? It’ll be a miracle if he talks to us again. And he has the right to want to never see us again. Fuck, we might have lost him... 

— No, John, we didn’t— Roger wiped his tears away, he was feeling terrible and guilty. Fuck. He fucked up. 

— You hit him! For fuck’s sake, would you date someone who beat you up? — Freddie screamed and threw his arms on the air. 

— I wouldn’t, but—  

— There’s no but, Roger. — John was stern. — What you did is unforgivable, and if we were together, you would go away  _right now_. — Roger just kept quiet because there was no excuse to what he did, and it would be better if he just left them. — You’ll explain yourself to him, but if Brian feels like he can’t trust you, – or us – then that’s it: we let him be. 

— That’s fair. — Roger nodded.  

— Let’s go talk to him, boys. — Freddie left the room without waiting for an answer. 

Ω 

Brian stopped on the bathroom to take the razor and went straight to his bedroom. He locked the door and sat on the floor, taking off his clothes. He was shaking, his fingers had no precision, so some cuts were deeper and bigger than others. Brian wasn’t being selective: he cut his arms, his legs, his belly, his hips, anywhere that he could reach; and when the blood left his body and he ached, he forgot the feeling of Roger’s hand on his face — it still hurt, the mark was still there, and now instead of red it was becoming purple, but he had other bruises to mind. 

Brian put his arm near to his neck and tried to cut it, but a loud noise scared him and the razor fell to the ground — Brian didn’t have the will to take it back. He was feeling dizzy, and maybe this time no one would be able to hurt him again.  _Roger_ wouldn’t be able to hurt him again. Soon he realised the noise was just his friends knocking on his door.  

— Bri, darling, open up. We just want to talk. — Brian felt his heart racing and blood rushed to his ears.  

—  _Go away_ _!_ — He growled, trying to make them leave. They had already proved that love wasn’t real, it was better if they just left him alone. Like he would be forever.  

— Brian... — someone whimpered, and Brian knew it was Roger. What right did he have to sound so hurt?  

—  _Go the fuck away! Leave me!_ — He was crying still, pressing some of the wounds because pain was better – the pain would help him forget. Except it never did.  

— Brian, we want to help. — John’s voice seemed stained, and he was hurt too – had probably been crying. Well, it was just an act.  _No one_ loved Brian. 

—  _Help my ass! No one can help me. Go! Away!_ — Brian kicked the door and bawled because it hurt more than the cuts, so he kept doing it until his feet were bleeding. He was lying naked on the floor with a small puddle of blood around him. —  _Go away! Fuck you!_  

— Bri, darling, you’ll hurt yourself; please, stop. — Freddie sounded scared – all three of them were, because they didn’t know what to do to stop Brian from doing whatever he was doing.  

— You  _are the ones who’ll hurt me! Go! Away!_ — Brian cried out and stopped moving once his body started to feel sore. No one answered back and he felt glad that  _finally_ no one would try to abuse him.  

 

 

 

 

> _Tim saved Brian. He was a hero. After not seeing his friend or hearing news about him for half a year, Tim decided that it was time to go visit him. He went on a day when he knew Jake would be working, so there would be no distractions. Tim still hoped to find Brian on the hallways of Imperial, but his friend wasn’t like this — he wouldn’t skip classes unless he was physically incapable of leaving his bed._  
> 
> _Tim felt a wave of relief when he saw that Jake was just leaving the house, so he slowed the car down and waited until he was out of sight to park and knock on Brian’s door. He was nervous and anxious to see his best friend, but boy he wasn’t ready for what he saw._    
>  _Brian rushed when he heard the knocks because he knew better than to keep Jake waiting, but he felt scared and ashamed when he saw that Tim was on the other side, and he tried his best to close the door — because Jake didn’t like visitors — but Tim was faster. He entered the house and closed the door, finding it weird that all the lights were off and the curtains were closed._  
> 
> _— Brian, what’s going on? — He tried to hug his friend, but Brian flinched and walked away._  
> 
> _— Please, leave, you’re_ not  _my friend. — Brian wanted to cry because he missed Tim, but it was wrong. He trusted Jake. Tim frowned when he heard his friend’s voice: it was hoarse. It didn’t sound like Brian at all._  
> 
> _— Brian, what the fuck are you talking about? — Tim turned on the lights and gasped when he saw Brian. His eyes were black and sunken, his lips were bruised, his nose looked like it was broken, he had a huge cut on his left cheek, his arms were purple and black and he was too skinny – more than normal, and his clothes were hanging on him, as if they were three sizes too big; his legs were scarred and cut, – some were clearly self-mutilation cuts -- and his hair was damp and dry. — What happened to you? Who did this?_  
> 
> _— I have to ask you to leave, Tim, Jake doesn— Brian stopped himself but it was too late._  
> 
> _— Jake did this? — Tim got closer and Brian didn’t stop him this time._  
> 
> _— He was just trying to educate me; I-I was wrong and he... — Tim was shocked. He never thought that Brian was going through that and he felt guilty – he should’ve known._  
> 
> _— What did he do? — Tim led Brian to the sofa, and he whimpered in pain when Tim held him by the waist to support him – because Brian looked like he would break at any moment._  
> 
> _— He just... he just did what I deserved for disobeying him, that’s all. — Tim looked at Brian in disbelief – Brian was smart, how the fuck did he believe that he deserved something like that? He repeated his question, and this time Brian really answered. — He started to manhandle me and scream, it hurt a little but I deserved. Then he beat me when I was reading, but he told me not to so he was right, and... — Tim rubbed his eyes to fight his rage and to prevent Brian from being scared._  
> 
> _— He beat you up because you were reading? — Brian nodded. — How many times? — Brian started to count on his fingers, and Tim got really worried._  
> 
> _— Eight. Just eight times; I deserved more, but he... he was kind to me and let it pass. — Brian tried to smile but his face hurt._  
> 
> _— And the only thing he did was beat you up, or did he do something else? — Brian gulped and Tim knew what was coming, but he waited for_ _Brian’s_ _answer._  
> 
> _— No, he... well, he only showed me what I wanted because he loves me and—_  
> 
> _— Brian! — He lost his temper and regretted when Brian flinched away. — Did he rape you? — When he asked it, Brian only nodded and started to cry, and all Tim could do was hold his trembling body. Brian was sobbing uncontrollably, screaming in pain and shaking his head._  
> 
> _— Three times. O-One w-w-when I-I was... in b-bed... d-d-d-depressed... the s-s-second w-w-when h-h-he... l-l-locked m-me in m-my r-_ _ro_ _-o-_ _om._ _.._ _th_ _-the_ _thi-ird_ _w-w-when... h-h-he h-h-hit m-m-me f-f-or_ _th_ _-the s-s-second-d t-t-t-time... b-b-but h-he lo-loves m-me... I-I d-d-deserve-v_ _ed_ _i_ _-it..._  
> 
> _— Brian, this isn’t love. This isn’t right... that night, when you didn’t show up... was_ _it_ _Jake? — Brian nodded. — Come on, you’re coming with me._  
> 
> _— What? No! I belong here with Jake, he’s my—_  
> 
> _— Brian. — Tim got up and started to walk to his friend’s bedroom. — You_ will  _come with me. I won’t let you spend another minute with him. I won’t leave you again. — Brian trusted Tim, so he nodded once again and followed him. It was another surprise when Tim opened the wardrobe. — Your clothes, they—_  
> 
> _— He ripped some of them apart because he said I looked like a whore. — Brian wiped his tears and crossed his arms. — I still have the ones that... are big. He threw my shoes away because I... I didn’t deserve them._  
> 
> _— Okay, that’ll do. — Tim found a suitcase and started to put Brian’s things there, but he stopped working when he heard Brian’s stomach growling. — Are you hungry,_ _Brimi_ _? — He said his nickname with such fondness that Brian started to cry again and replied with a choked “yes”._  
> 
> _— He... he starves me sometimes because he says I’m fat, and— That explained his weight loss._  
> 
> _— I’m making you something to eat, come on, I’m finished here. — Tim left the room with the suitcase and went straight to the kitchen to look for something light so Brian wouldn’t get sick. — When was the last time you ate?_  
> 
> _— Two days ago. He gave me bread._  
> 
> _Tim answered with a simple “okay” and gave him some grapes. He held Brian by his hand and led him to his car. Brian’s eyes hurt because of the light, and he was crying again because it was amazing to feel the rays of the sun on his skin, the breeze running past him and he could feel the grass on his feet. Some of the neighbours were looking through their windows and gossiping, and Tim felt angry at them because they heard Brian suffering and did nothing. Fuck them. Once they were inside the car, Tim held Brian’s hand with force and kissed his knuckles._  
> 
> _— It’ll be okay, I promise you, he’ll never touch you again. — Brian thanked him for showing up, because chances were that he was going to die before he was thirty. — We can go to the police department to report him and—_  
> 
> _— No! Please, I don’t want to... I still love_ _him,_ _Tim, don’t make me do it. — Brian squeezed his hand and_ _sobbed_ _._  
> 
> _— Okay. One day at a time, mate._  
> 
> _Brian slept the whole ride, and he cried again when he saw that they were at his parents’ house. He ran out of the car and knocked on the door, and he threw himself on his father’s arms when he answered the door. His mother soon appeared and she cried when she saw the state her son was in. They put Brian inside and, when they tried to welcome Tim — who was carrying the suitcase — Brian screamed “no” and held them stronger (even though he was as strong as a toddler). Ruth looked at Tim with confusion in her eyes._  
> 
> _— Jake did this to him. — Brian was clinging to his father and was glad his mother’s hands were stroking his back, even though it hurt like hell; it felt like home. Real home. — I... I didn’t know._  
> 
> _— Oh, Brian, why didn’t you call us? — Brian couldn’t answer, he just missed his family._  
> 
> _— Jake didn’t let him._  
> 
>  
> 
> _Tim only left_ _Brian’s_ _side when he was sure his friend was safe, and he went straight to the police department. Maybe his testimony wouldn’t be accepted, but he needed to do his part to help Brian and any other person who might cross ways with Jake._  
> 
>  

Brian searched for a towel — only finding a white one — and cleaned his body, dressing up again. He waited until it was way past midnight and he was sure everyone was sleeping and called Tim. The only way he would stop hurting was if Tim was there with him.  

—  _Hello?_  — A groggy voice answered the phone after three minutes.  

— Tim... — Brian whimpered in pain because some of the wounds were really bad. 

—  _Brimi? What happened?_  

— Need you... I’m at... Ridge Farm... please, _I need you_. — Brian started to cry in despair when he heard shuffling, and he was afraid one of the three would find him and hit him again – or worse.  

—  _I’m on my way, I’ll be there soon. Please, take care of yourself._ — Tim hung up and Brian was left alone with his thoughts.  

Ω 

Tim arrived one hour later — he must have exceeded the speed limit — and when he opened the door — because Brian left it open — he soon had a panicked Brian on his arms. Tim saw the cuts and sighed. Brian used to self-harm when he was still recovering, and he stopped once he went to therapy for a few months, and for him to have returned to it wasn’t a good sign. Then, Tim realised his cheek was bruised and he understood it all.  

— Brimi, take me to the bathroom, I need to clean you up. — Brian did as he was told, feeling glad Tim made it and helped him bandage the deeper wounds – otherwise he might have had and infection. — Who did this to you?  

— All of them, but specially Roger. — Brian led him to his bedroom when they finished, and now he was being cuddled by Tim, who was also caressing his hair. — It started slowly; he threw bacon at me. That was okay. Then they said they didn’t need me for a song, and I remembered  _him_ telling me that I was useless. — There were no tears left to cry. — Then John was ogling my ass and I... remembered when  _he_... you know? I couldn’t do anything, so they started bickering. I tried to stop it, but Roger slapped me. I ran away and did this, then I called you when they were sleeping.  

— Do you have anything else to tell me? — Tim held him closer. 

— No. I just want to sleep. — Brian held Tim’s hands and closed his eyes, feeling glad his friend was there to comfort him.  

— Okay, Brimi, I’ll be right here if you need. I love you.  

— I love you more. — Brian turned around so he could hold Tim properly, and soon he was sleeping soundly.  

Ω 

Freddie, John and Roger were confused when they saw that Tim was in their kitchen and that Brian was practically sitting on his lap, his head rested on his chest and a small smile on his lips — that soon disappeared when Brian saw them. Roger didn’t miss the hatred glance he received from Tim, and John felt hopeless — if Tim was here, then Brian was going away. The real shock came when Brian shifted and they saw the various scars and marks on his body, and Freddie felt sick when he noticed the bandages. Brian looked at Tim sheepishly, and he soon understood — Tim held Brian’s hand and caressed them.  

— What are you doing here? — Roger asked just because he couldn’t stand the silence.  

— I’m taking care of Brian, since you decided to hurt him more. — Tim’s voice was like ice. 

— Do I have a chance to explain myself?! — Roger scratched his head and sighed.  

— You shouldn’t have, but I want to hear. — Tim caressed Brian’s cheek and the guitarist leaned in to him, making the other three jealous.  

— I was angry because Brian looked hurt, and I thought Freddie was the reason to it; suddenly we were all fighting and Brian tried to stop us, but I was so furious that I only noticed him once I had already slapped him. It was an accident! But I swear I’m not responsible for the other marks. None of us are... 

— I know you’re not. You might be a ruthless excuse of drummer, but you wouldn’t do this to Brimi. — Brian wiped a few tears that escaped and Tim pulled him to his lap, hugging him tight because he knew Brian needed comfort right now. 

— So... who did this? — John asked in a quiet voice. 

— Brian’s ex. He was... he was terrible. — Brian whimpered and Tim kissed his forehead. — Can I tell them? — Brian nodded slowly and closed his eyes. — It all started with screaming, and it all got worse when Brian didn’t make a good coffee because he was depressed. His ex-boyfriend threw hot coffee at him. Then, he convinced Brian no one loved him, that he had no family, no friends. Then he moved to... — Tim had to stop talking in order to contain his tears — he raped Brian, — the guitarist sobbed loud — thrice. And then he hit Brian, starved him, tore apart his clothes, forbade him from leaving the house. One day I went to see Brian, and he was terrible, bruised and skinny. His ex said that he did it for love, and Brian believed him... I was a fool for not having noticed it sooner, but I took Brian to his parents and reported his ex right after. It didn’t work, Brian had to report but he wasn’t used to going out anymore... then Brimi started to cut himself, because it took away the pain. His parents and I took him to a therapist and he got better, but this dawn he called me desperate saying that he needed me, and when I arrive, I find him soaked in blood and wounded. So, I wondered who would have done something like that, and what a surprise when I discover it was you who made him go through all of this again. — By that time John, Freddie and Roger were silently crying and Brian was sobbing. — This has no excuse.  

— I know! — Roger said. — I didn’t know Brian went through this, and I never wanted to hurt him! I promise you, I love him – we all do, we  _love_ Brian, and I would never hurt him like that. I promise you! John and Freddie have nothing to do with this, I am the culprit. — Roger was shaking and crying, and John and Freddie couldn’t help but hug him.  

— I looked at Brian and... I know I shouldn’t have, and... — John choked on his words.  

— No, you shouldn’t. — Tim held Brian closer because he looked like he would faint. 

— But, Bri, you have to understand that we— Freddie started, but he shut up when Brian glanced at him. 

— I’m going away. — Brian wiped his tears. 

— You’re what? — John’s head was buzzing. 

— I... I can’t stay here. I need time to think, and I love you – I really do, but I  _can’t._ You just remind me of  _him_ and I want to move on, I can’t live like this. This  _isn’t life!_ I can’t really trust you right now, and although I know I’ll never love anyone the way I love you... I need time. I’m sorry, but... — he sobbed again and Tim kissed his temple — I could forgive you, because I feel that you didn’t want to... abuse me. But right now... I need to heal. So, I’m going with Tim. I can come after to record my parts but... you can’t be here. I’m sorry. — Freddie nodded, and John hid his face on the singer’s back. Brian left the kitchen and went to his bedroom to get his suitcase.  

— He can’t leave us. — Roger cried. — Fred, do something!  

— Darling, I can’t... — tears were falling and he hurt.  

— You knew, Roger... we talked about this... it’s his decision to make, and we have to accept it. — John looked at him with hatred in his eyes.  

— Look... — Tim started — I can see you regret it, and maybe Brian will be able to forgive you – I wouldn’t, and I’ll tell him that every time he doubts himself again; but if he feels like he can trust you, I’m sure you guys will record together soon. Just tell me when you leave so I’ll come with him and you’ll finish the record, okay? — Tim was leaving, but stopped on the threshold when Roger spoke. 

— We don’t want to be just friends. — Roger crossed his arms and lowered his head. None of this would have happened if he just kept calm.  

— Too bad you’re not reliable, then. — Tim left without looking back this time, and found Brian already sat on the passenger’s seat. He started to cry and Tim held him again, knowing that it would hurt more this time. — It’s okay, it’s okay, Brimi, I’m here.  

— I love them, Tim... I want to be with them, but... — they didn’t see that inside the kitchen, John, Freddie and Roger were crying their hearts out, each one feeling somehow guilty for Brian’s breakdown, each one feeling like part of their souls had gone away – which was true, because chances were that Brian would never come back to them. 

— You told them you need to heal, right? — Brian nodded. — Do you really want to date them, Brimi? Even after last night? 

— I... I already thought it was worth it, Tim... I want them, I feel like someone pulled out my heart... because I love them... — he wiped his tears and pulled away from Tim, who started to drive — but I need time to... I need to forget  _him._ And if I can, then... I’ll go back to them.   

— Roger hit you, Brimi... — Tim put his hand on Brian’s knee.  

— I know... and it makes me mad, I feel weak... I just... it’s too much, Tim.  _Too much._   

— That’s okay, Brimi, we’ll figure this out.  

Brian cried the whole ride home, and when his parents saw him like that again, he knew that it would take a long time to recover, because he was still clinging on to them as if he was a toddler, and he felt desperate when one of them moved. All he wanted was to forget the pain, and now — in his parents and Tim’s arms — he felt at ease; of course, he was hurting and sore, but the hands holding him would never grow rough, and the voices would never go cold. He felt like he had all the time in the world to go back to his normal life, and then he would be able to think about returning to the loves of his life.  

**Author's Note:**

> This one isn't happy, far from it, and I don't know if I'm going to upload another chapter -- I like the way it ends, but sad endings like this one aren't really my type. Well, who knows?  
> As always: comments and any feedback are welcome -- tell me what you think about this.  
> I accpet suggestions/asks, if there's something you want to see (and I'm comfortable to write) just tell me :)  
> Oh. and you can find me on:  
> tumblr - @your-wannabe-queen  
> wattpad - @Queenie_Sorcha (but this one isn't going to be uploaded today)  
> twitter - @wannabesorcja


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